


the one where Rhodey is late

by singingwithoutwords



Series: Imagine Tony and Rhodey [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Feels, M/M, Waiting, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:03:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4147533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singingwithoutwords/pseuds/singingwithoutwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a prompt from the <a href="http://imaginetonyandrhodey.tumblr.com/">Imagine Tony and Rhodey</a> blog:</p><p>Rhodey goes on a mission that requires radio silence, which is bad enough all on its own, but then the mission runs late, and Tony gets frantic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the one where Rhodey is late

Two days.  It’s two days past the deadline now.  It was bad enough before, when Tony knew it was just routine radio silence, but it’s even worse now, because radio silence was supposed to end two days ago, but he still hasn’t heard anything.

He tries to tell himself it’s nothing, missions run over all the time, the lack of contact doesn’t mean Rhodey’s dead or anything.  He’s worrying over nothing, he  _knows_  he’s worrying over nothing, but he can’t help it.  He hasn’t slept in 57 hours now, kept awake by every scenario his highly active imagination can cook up, most of them extremely negative, and it takes all his self-control not to strap on his latest suit and go tear the world apart until he knows Rhodey is safe.

Pepper, bless her soul, has cleared his schedule for the rest of the week.  It doesn’t lessen his worry any, but at least he doesn’t have to deal with people while he broods.  Jarvis keeps him in coffee, tunes, and not-as-likely-to-explode projects to tinker with while he waits.  And waits.  And waits.

And then, finally, at half past seven in the a.m. of day three, the workshop door slides open and Rhodey steps through.  Tony drops his (thankfully non-explosive) work and stumbles to his feet.

Rhodey meets him in the middle of the workshop, wrapping his arms around Tony and pulling him close.  Tony buries his face in Rhodey’s shoulder.  The fabric of his shirt is rough, dirty, and smells strongly of sweat, gunpowder, and grease.  He must not have bothered to shower or change when he got back.

“Shh, shh,” Rhodey soothes, rubbing a hand up and down Tony’s back.  “It’s okay, Tones.  I’ve got you.”

Tony presses closer against him, soaking in his warmth and the vibrations of his voice in his chest and throat.  He takes a deep breath, holds it, then lets it out in a low string of ‘ _thank fuck_ ’s and ‘ _afraid I lost you_ ’s as he melts in relief, trusting Rhodey to take his weight.

Rhodey grunts softly, shifting his hold on Tony’s waist, and directs him to the couch, where they both collapse in a heap, Tony more than halfway on top of Rhodey in irrational fear that if maximum contact is not maintained, Rhodey will turn out to be a hallucination fueled by exhaustion and subsequently disappear.

Tony hasn’t slept in days, and who knows how little rest Rhodey is running on.  So-glad-you’re-alive sex will have to wait until later.  For now, Tony wedges himself against Rhodey, who shoves and prods right back until they’re both semi-comfortable.

The sleep Tony has been avoiding for days finally catches up to him, but not before he says softly, into the curve of Rhodey’s shoulder, “Welcome home.”


End file.
